Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;
Whose misadventur’d piteous overthrows
Doth with their death bury their parents’ strife.
The fearful passage of their death-mark’d love,
And the continuance of their parents’ rage,
Which but their children’s end naught could remove,
Is now the two hours’ traffic of our stage;
The which, if you with patient ears attend,
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
ACT I.
SCENE I. A public place.
[Enter Sampson and Gregory armed with swords and bucklers.]
Sampson.
Gregory, o’ my word, we’ll not carry coals.
Gregory.
No, for then we should be colliers.
Sampson.
I mean, an we be in choler we’ll draw.
Gregory.
Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o’ the collar.
Sampson.
I strike quickly, being moved.
Gregory.
But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
Sampson.
A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
Gregory. To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn’st away.
Sampson.
A dog of that house shall move me to stand:
I will take the wall of any man or maid of Montague’s.
Gregory. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall.
Sampson. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push Montague’s men from the wall and thrust his maids to the wall.
Gregory.
The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
Sampson.
‘Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant:
when I have fought with the men I will be cruel with the maids,
I will cut off their heads.
Gregory.
The heads of the maids?
Sampson. Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt.
Gregory.
They must take it in sense that feel it.
Sampson. Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and ‘tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
Gregory.
‘Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst,
thou hadst been poor-John.—Draw thy tool;
Here comes two of the house of Montagues.
Sampson.
My naked weapon is out: quarrel! I will back thee.
Gregory.
How! turn thy back and run?
Sampson.
Fear me not.
Gregory.
No, marry; I fear thee!
Sampson.
Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
Gregory. I will frown as I pass by; and let them take it as they list.
Sampson. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is disgrace to them if they bear it.
[Enter Abraham and Balthasar.]
Abraham.
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Sampson.
I do bite my thumb, sir.
Abraham.
Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
Sampson.
Is the law of our side if I say ay?
Gregory.
No.
Sampson. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.
Gregory.
Do you quarrel, sir?
Abraham.
Quarrel, sir! no, sir.
Sampson. But if you do, sir, am for you: I serve as good a man as you.
Abraham.
No better.
Sampson.
Well, sir.
Gregory.
Say better; here comes one of my master’s kinsmen.
Sampson.
Yes, better, sir.
Abraham.
You lie.
Sampson.
Draw, if you be men.—Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.
[They fight.]
[Enter Benvolio.]
Benvolio.
Part, fools! put up your swords; you know not what you do.
[Beats down their swords.]
[Enter Tybalt.]
Tybalt.
What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
Turn thee Benvolio, look upon thy death.
Benvolio.
I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,
Or manage it to part these men with me.
Tybalt.
What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word
As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
Have at thee, coward!
[They fight.]
[Enter several of both Houses, who join the fray; then enter
Citizens with clubs.]
1 Citizen.
Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!
Down with the Capulets! Down with the Montagues!
[Enter Capulet in his gown, and Lady Capulet.]
Capulet.
What noise is this?—Give me my long sword, ho!
Lady Capulet.
A crutch, a crutch!—Why call you for a sword?
Capulet.
My sword, I say!—Old Montague is come,
And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
[Enter Montague and his Lady Montague.]
Montague.